


Cross Your t's

by Angelkissesanddemonsblood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Boy King! Sam Winchester, Drained! Cas, Fluff, M/M, Smut, crazy! Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-21 13:38:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14916371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelkissesanddemonsblood/pseuds/Angelkissesanddemonsblood
Summary: The myths were mistaken. Sam Winchester was not “The Boy King, Lucifers True Vessel”. He was more than that, The Boy King would be the one to end the mighty legend Lucifer, taking his place as Hells most wicked ruler. And Castiel, who had fallen into the trap of human insanity, his grace to drained to make sense of true intentions, believed he could still save him. Save Sam Winchester from sin.





	1. Mother Mary

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is made of blood sweat and tears, please enjoy and leave feedback!

A multicoloured blaze seeped through the stained glass window, dimly illuminating the entire church. All the holy men who had been staying lay dead or dying, final images of terror scorched into their mind. The alter was frigid, like a hellfire that went deep and endlessly into a soul. Mother Mary stared up at the Heavens from her perch in a stained glass window. Her blue dress accompanied by a crown of thorns akin to the one atop Jesus' head in the crucified renditons on either side of the window. A large man with twisted, pointed horns like a bulls, stood, his hands pressed stiffly to the alter. A form of torture, to feel the burn that seered through his unholy arms. His body remained lenghty, making him tower above the rest. Each moment that his bare feet and hands remained on the dark wood made him question why he ever believed in Heaven. The angels and God had never once believed in him, the Boy King, Lucifers true vessel. They hadn't even believed in him then, when he was just Lucifers vessel. 

A river of blood was rolling past the door to the study, curling around the pews towards him. The front door creaked open, ushering a small and broken man into its taunting depths. Holy men slaughtered in the most holy of homes, the creature who murdered them standing in front of the alter. Crimson blood stained the banner hanging down from it, handprints that obscured and demented the cross. The tall man at the alter laughed, a most wicked Cheshire Cat grin stretching over the length of his face. Turning to the run down figure walking along the middle isle, tactfully avoiding the blood growing thick on the floor. Only his head turned, his chin eclipsed by his shoulder, each foot was set firmly, a foot between them, back aberrant from its normal position. The mans voice was deep and defiled from years of running Hell, "Hello Castiel."

The horns that occupied a portion of the boy kings head startled Castiel, along with the intact set of matte black wings. His lips dropped open to form a sound but all he could muster was a squeak. He'd been drained, the last of his grace struggling to regenerate. In the others great power he was but an ant, a lunatic with a death wish. Once Sam had fallen so far Castiel lost himself to the throes of human struggle. The angels voice came softly, "Sam, I felt you here, I hoped this wouldn't be… but… those horns."

Sam turned to face him, swinging around fully this time. He used his hands to push away from the alter, hopping down off the stage. The blood that squished between his toes didn't seem to bother him. More than anything, that startled Castiel. His Sam cared about people, even monsters, would never walk nonchalantly through their blood. Sam's arms were tucked behind him, unafraid of the angel that could have smited him if he had the power. His lips formed a small, sad looking smile, "Oh Castiel, I knew you'd come."

Cas took a step forward as Sam continued to come closer, each movement as sure as the sun rising. All the confidence Sam had lacked as a human, he had now. Castiel smiled limply, "I was following some bees in the backyard, they're really something Sam, fluffy and set in a consistant way. They never question the way of their queen, angels are a lot like bees. So much I wonder if perhaps bees were modelled after us. Anyways, I was following the bees and I felt a great evil here, so I ran off to find out what it was. When I got closer I could feel a little bit of Sam, my Sam. No- not a monster."

Sam looked confused when Castiels train of thought veered to angels and bees. His lips quivered into a howling laugh, "What the _fuck_  is wrong with you Castiel?"

The laugh rang through the building, Sam standing their with a raised brow and a frown, waiting for Castiel to answer him. When no answer came his frown deepened, "Seriously Cas, what's wrong with you?"

"I, I'm not part of the bees anymore Sam. I'm pitifully near human." His eyes held a level of loss that Sam remembered feeling.

He shoved the pity down and glared, "Serves you right you son of a bitch! Do you know I used to believe in Heaven and God and you shitty angels?! Do you know I only wanted someone to believe in me! No, none of you believed in Satans vessel, the boy king, monster. Now look where we are."

Sam was so close to Castiels face now that the angel could feel his calescent breath wafting over his face. Reeling, Castiel slapped Sam. He stood his ground, "I believed in you Sam. Dean? Dean believed in you! The real question is whether you know or even _care_ what angels are told as fledglings! We get told about how bad our brother is, and how his true vessel will fight it but is truly putting up a facade to keep it quiet that he's conspiring! Then I met you and fought for you! So don't-" Castiel paused, tears welling in his eyes, "ever tell me that nobody believed in you."

Sam tried to block out the words and all the sentiment, all the old passion. All the love, and honour he'd felt to be near Castiel. Lips slipping open he said, "I'm sorry."

Cas could swear he saw the ungodly horns retract back into Sams head slightly. Perhaps the Boy King could still be saved. Sams wings folded back down from where they'd flared out in his rage. Castiel, knowing how fast Sam could kill him, wrapped his arms around the demons torso. He hoped he could see more of his Sam, the one that existed before this. There had been a glimpse when he said sorry, a smidgen of what Sam Winchester was. Castiel held tighter, brows furrowing, "We aren't bees Sam, the Winchesters are strong. The Winchesters are like lions."

Sam paused, shaken at the arms wrapped around him, he rubbed Cas' hair down thinking they should wash it, "Are we?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry I dismantled the pride," Cas whispered.

There was nothing on Earth as peaceful as Castiel in that moment, with a heart full of hope that Sam could still be saved.


	2. Root Decay

All the preparation in the world could not have made Castiel ready for the garden. Having convinced himself that Sam was still there, in that demon blood tainted head, Castiel had agreed to go with Sam to Hell’s castle. The castle alone was massive, with spindling towers going up into oblivion. It looked like something the Earth would have made inside of a rather large cave. There was no obvious construction, it  looked like one, massive, smooth, rock. The only thing that made it identifiable as a castle were the looming oak doors. As big as one city block, a group of demons had to drag them open, which appeared to be an extraordinary effort. Sam guided him into the foyer, watching the angels mesmerized eyes take in the relatively Victorian architecture inside. 

A few demons began to whisper frantically, pointing to Castiel. The boy king noticed and raised a brow towards them effectively silencing them, “Castiel is a guest, make him feel welcome. Or else.”

A demon with smoke black eyes and shiny white hair stiffened up at the words, “Of course sir!”

None of the demons actually knew what  _ or else  _ implied, but they’d heard it was the most gruesome of punishments and did not want to find out. The demon scurried over towards Castiel, holding out his hands, “Hello Castiel, my name is Dagon, may I take your jacket please?”

Dagon seemed desperate for Castiel to say yes and so he did, gently handing him the jacket and thanking him. Sam stood stoically by the staircase, waiting for Cas to stop gawking. The staircase itself was an artwork, it’s marble steps and railing depicting Sam’s legendary fall. It was also large, enough that eight men the size of Sam could stand shoulder to shoulder, and was at least seventy-five steps high. The taller man beckoned for Castiel to follow him up the stairs, “You’ll be staying in my room with me, do you understand? For however long you stay the room is yours as well, and if any demon causes problems for you tell me. They’ll find out what  _ or else _ means.”

Castiel had only heard part of it, distracted with short-lived thoughts. He hummed softly, “I don’t like conflict Sam, I only like bees and,” the angel smiled, poking his finger out towards Sam, “pull my finger.”

Sam stopped dead in his tracks, sighing when he saw the joyful glint in Castiel’s eyes. He grabbed Castiel’s finger and pulled just slightly. A small rabbit apparition appeared and hopped around their feet before fading out of existence. Castiel laughed, “Wasn’t that funny?”

“Castiel, I’m serious, if any, and I do mean  _ any _ of my demons give you trouble you’re to tell me immediately.”

The angels grin sunk, “Are you angry?”

Taking a deep breath Sam rolled his temper farther into his chest, “No Cas.”

“Why are you angry?”

Annoyance spiked in Sam’s head, he closed his eyes and rubbed at his temple, acutely aware of how worried Castiel looked, “I’m not angry Cas,” he sighed, “let’s just go.”

Despite a number of the things Castiel was doing that made him appear a little off his rocker, he was better than he’d been in months. Each moment that he spent following Sam up to the bedroom pieces of his sanity were returning. Castiel stared at Sam’s broad shoulders as he followed him, observing the large wings folded between them. They were sharp at the end and Castiel wondered how Sam slept with them. Eventually the pair reached another set of large, dark wood doors. Castiel was expecting some red and black themed bedroom like what vampires had in old fiction, so when Sam shoved open the door and revealed a room that sported baby blue and pastel yellow it made him falter in his step. Cas scrunched up his face and tilted his head, “Is this your room?”

“Sometimes, it’s more calming than the room I usually sleep in,” Sam replied, opening up the enormous draping curtains. Turning back to Castiel he smiled, “I thought you might like this room more.”

The angel blushed, trying to ignore the look Sam was giving him. The demon before him looked ravenous, like he couldn’t wait to gobble Cas right up, “It’s lovely Sam. Just, not what I was expecting.” 

Sam looked beautiful in the light that poured in from the window, every part of him just dark enough that you really had to look to see him. Castiel didn’t notice his mouth opening to form words, “I’ll be back dove, you just stay here.” 

The door shuttered closed behind Sam, who’s back and shoulders looked petite in the grandness of the door, but still made Cas shiver with the desire to feel small between Sam’s arms. 

Demons were not allowed past the first floor with the acception of three maids. Lamia was Sam’s favourite, being the one who he assigned to tailoring clothes. Tailoring was a job to aspire to, it was the only one other than Dagon’s job that allowed for a personal relationship with Sam. This usually  _ or else _ meant. 

Lamia was in her specially assigned room, sketching away in a book Sam had selected specifically for her, “Lamia.”

The petite demon shot up, turning on her heels to face Sam, “Ah, sir! I didn’t notice you, is there anything I can help with?”

“Yes actually, I need you design a suit for my guest Castiel. He’s in the yellow room,” Sam stated, Lamia gathered up her things, turning away from the boy king in the process, “and Lamia?”

She turned her head, “Yes sire?”

Sam smiled, loving the red dress she’d made for herself, “It needs to be done by supper, and tell Lilim and Amerelle to have the garden prepared.” 

“Of course sire.”

With that Sam descended the stairs, commanding that the chefs have a feast concocted immediately.

 

Back in the bedroom Castiel was seated against the window seat, admiring the way a fake sky was dancing above the castle. The door creaked open, allowing Lamia to enter the room. Castiel jolted up, “Who are you?”

The demon chuckled, “No need to fret Castiel, Sam wants me to tailor a suit for you. My name is Lamia.” she held out a set of delicate fingers. Castiel could crush her, which put him at ease as he reached for her hand. 

Curiosity got to Cas as he pictured what his suit would look like. As Lamia began to measure him Cas asked questions, “What kind of suit are you planning to make? What colour do you think would look best.”

Lamia liked Castiel, his questions were a fun thing to think about, “Well I’m thinking a three piece suit, but I wonder what you would look like in a red suit jacket.”

The angel had never thought of what red would look like on him, he hoped Lamia was right. He wanted to blow Sam away when he walked into the dining room, “I’ve never worn anything red except a sweater, but I trust you.”

Measurements aside the two talked about what kinds of clothes Castiel liked, Lamia discovered that he had a trenchcoat he absolutely adored and decided that would be a gift to him. Another trench coat, a nice black so it would match any shirt. 

Lamia was incredible at stitching, the clothes she brought were stunning. The shirt and pants were equal shades of black, the suit jacket a crimson red. A pocket square that was black with red details and a necktie matching the jacket completely the look flawlessly. Most impressive was how swiftly she’d completed them. Two hours. In that time Cas had decided to read up on Lamia, wondering what her story was. 

_ Lamia is a demon stemming from Greek mythology. A demon of the night she typically preys on children, devouring them. She was a queen of Libya who was beloved by Zeus. When Hera stole her children from her she began to kill every child she could get in her power. Greek mothers told their naughty children this to scare them. _

_ In other mythologies she was described as taking the form of a beautiful woman to seduce and devour men. In all descriptions however she is described as devouring people. _

_ Lamia is half woman, half serpent demon, a sea monster, and a vampire by all accounts. Although Lamia has become a forgotten demon in time, and was often called “small” and “weak” in the final stories told of her.  _

The clothes fit Castiel perfectly, wrapping around and hugging his muscles just right. Lamia seemed pleased by her work. The demon helped Castiel put on the tie and stick the pocket square in his breast pocket, singing a soft tune as she did so. He sighed, gathering the courage to ask Lamia the question that had been bothering him, “Lamia, I don’t know if this would be considered rude,” he began, glancing down at the woman that barely stood chest high on him, “did you devour people?”

Lamia paused, her nimble fingers trembling slightly, “I did Castiel.”

Her voice cracked as she spoke the words, shame dripping from each one, “I devoured people and I wish I hadn’t.”

Castiel tucked her into his arms, burying his nose in the hair at the top of her head, “I promise when I get back to Heaven, I’ll fight to free you from this.”

“Thank you Castiel, but these are my sins to carry,” Lamia kissed his cheek softly, “I have a gift for you and then you should go get Amerelle to fix your hair for supper.” 

The brunette handed Cas a thin box, watching as he peeled away the lid and unfolded the gift tissue, “Oh, Lamia you didn’t have to. It’s beautiful.” 

Cas pulled a black trenchcoat with the same red detailing as the one on his pocket square, except this jacket sported hand stitched roses along the sleeves and along the bottom hem line. The angel clutched the new coat to his chest, “I love it.”

“I hope so! I have to go now, Dagon needs my help setting up. Amerelle is down the hall in the room with violet doors,” with that Lamia moved hurriedly towards the dining room.

Castiel walked through the inky black hallways, only seeing the violet door because of a torch burning alongside it. Rapping softly on the doors and giving a silent prayer that this was the correct room. Another woman, unlike Lamia in many ways, swung open the door, “Castiel yes? Hurry hurry we haven’t much time.”

This demon was tall and curvy. Amerelle was tall enough to get a straight look at Castiel nose without moving a muscle. The woman was quick, parting Castiel’s hair to one side and keeping conversation to a minimum. It was whirlwind, barely allowing Castiel a moment to observe the beauty of the gold and green bedroom. Amerelle pushed him out the door quickly, into the hands of a new demon. 

“Hello Castiel, I’ll be taking you to supper.” the blonde tucked her hair behind her ear, handing the angel a necklace with a coiled serpent pendant. 

Placing the chain around his neck and clipping it Castiel spoke, “May I know your name? Amerelle wasn’t very keen on speaking and didn’t mention anyone coming to get me.

“Lilim.”

Castiel nodded, following the young girl down the stairs towards the dining area. Shoving the doors open Lilim led Castiel in, allowing for his grand entrance. 

Sam, who had been conversing with a servant looked up to see Castiel, his mouth dropping in awe. He stood, sauntering towards Castiel, eyes still wide and lips still parted as he took the angels hands in his, “You look, incredible Dove.”

“Thank you Sam, Lamia is a wonderful tailor.” Castiel replied, looking up to Sam’s face. 

The boy king was clad in a grey suit, the button down and jacket both half undone and exposing half his chest. His pant’s were perfectly fitted, impressing Castiel even more.

Sam led the angel to one end of the table where platters full of food sat tempting them. Cas was human enough to be intrigued by the smell, to desire to eat the dripping meats placed across the table. The meal was short, barely any talking between the two men. Sam ate loudly, digging into more meat than Cas had ever seen him touch. Demons stood along the walls, their nervousness radiating from them. If it wasn’t good enough the head chef would surely find out what  _ or else  _ entailed. With the twenty chefs lined up there were Dagon and Lamia, neither the least bit nervous. Both knew what  _ or else  _ was, and it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. The two were also briefed that there would be no punishment for the demons while Castiel was here, as he only wanted to touch the broken angel.

The Boy King stood, tossing his napkin down on the table. Every demon in the room held their breath except for the two who knew the details. Sam turned to the head chef, who looked like he could pee himself, “Satisfactory.”

An audible breath escaped the chef, who hurried to tell his assistants to clear up. Sam smiled, now setting his sights on a particular raven haired man. He called Lamia over, “Take him to get the other outfit and then bring him to the garden door. 

Lamia did just that, leading Castiel back to the yellow room from whence he came. The woman had a hung outfit in the closet, as she pulled the clothes out it was obvious that she had tailored them as well. When she'd had the time Castiel did not know, but he gratefully took the all-white ensemble. The angel wore it tucked in, feeling far to pure in the folds of its fabric. Even the shoes were white, the same way Sam had appeared to Dean when Zachariah showed him the future apocalypse world. At least, according to what Castiel was told. He stepped back into the room from the attached washroom, giving Lamia a small twirl. The demon smiled, covering the expression with her hand, “It looks lovely Castiel, now put on your new trench coat.”

Doing as he was told the angel found that he looked quite nice in the coat with all the white beneath it. Lamia gasped when he turned, taking in the results of her hard work. Clapping her hands joyfully she exclaimed, “Perfect! Never in all my life have I seen someone so attractive!”

Castiel laughed, holding his arms out. An idea slipped into his mind, he grabbed Lamia’s hands beginning to dance with her. Leaning in so his lips brushed her ear as he spoke Castiel whispered, “I've never seen such a beautiful woman.”

By now Cas’ sanity had all but returned to normal, his major conflict now was Sam or Lamia. The demon pulled away sooner than Castiel would have liked to bring him to the garden doors. Sam was seated on a concrete bench that circled a fountain. In the fountain was a sculpture of a woman whose hands stretched towards the Heavens while the flames of Hell nipped at her ankles. It resembled Lamia, and so Castiel thought it was beautiful. 

Before they reached Sam Castiel stopped, whispering again to the woman beside him, “Can I see you tomorrow Lamia?”

“Of course Castiel, but go now. It's not a good idea to keep him waiting.”

Castiel nodded, “Bye darling.”

Sam waited, now standing, for Castiel to join him. His eyes were soft while he looked at Cas, leading him out into the most beautiful garden in all creation. It was even more stunning than the garden of Eden. Beneath their feet are two contrasting events. Bees and animals gather and plants seem to lean toward Castiel’s light, while the path Sam walks becomes scorched and black. Much like the colour of their clothes, the actions of life toward them show how different they truly are. While they walk Sam speaks, “I've never been in this garden, and now I recall why. Such a shame, Amerelle and Lilim worked hard on this.”

Castiel ducked his head, keeping his eyes trained on a rather small bunny hopping alongside him, “I suppose it's like that Sam. I suppose sometimes we live and sometimes… we burn.”

The two stop at another statue, a weeping angel. They both look up at it's damaged wings, beautiful and tragic like the trail of burnt grass behind them. The sea of green stretched endlessly beyond them. 

“I want to save you Sam.” 

“You already are Castiel.”


	3. The Unbecoming

Sam did not kiss Castiel goodbye. He used to, back when he was human and the lines were solid borders. But not this time. This time he left without so much as a murmur. A meeting was happening on the surface, all rulers had to attend. That included the boy king, no matter how much he desired to stay.

 

A soft knock woke Lamia from her rest, it hardly phased her to be awoken at such hours. Dagon did it all the time. She shifted into a seated position, “Yes? Come in.”

 

The delicate woman rubbed her eyes, stretching with a yawn while her nightgown pulled up over her knees. Sam entered the room, “Lamia, I have to go to a meeting up top, keep Castiel happy. I don’t want him getting lonely.”

 

“No problem sire, I’ll see to it that the angel is comfortable.”

 

On the surface Lamia looked calm, but inside her heart was speeding. Butterflies had erupted in her abdomen, as soon as she could no longer hear The boy kings lumbering steps going down the hall she let out a sharp squeal, burying her head in the fluff of her pillows. 

 

She snuck down the hall towards Castiel’s sleeping quarters, opening the door to reveal a sleeping angel. As the demon got closer she realized how beautiful Cas really was. His hair was in disarray, falling over his eyes softly. Stunning, long lashes caressed the man’s cheek. The peaceful angels parted lips called to Lamia. With some hesitation the small woman pulled herself up into the bed, tucking herself beside Castiel. The tufts of black hair were velvety below her stroking fingertips. Soft light cast itself upon them as she did as such, leaving graceful shadows across her face. The whole of Hell, Earth, Purgatory, and Heaven seemed to go still. 

 

Evidently, Lamia stopped petting down the angels hair and instead ran her fingers down along the sharpness of his jaw. Her hand cradled the sprites face perfectly, like it was made for her to hold. Cas near purred with content, his right eye cracking open, “Why did you stop sweetheart?”

 

Lamia went red, “Oh I didn’t realize you were awake, I can go if you’d like!”

 

Castiel grabbed Lamia’s hand, pulling the woman back into the bed she was scrambling embarrassedly from. Instead of saying some word of comfort the angel pulled her down into a kiss, his hand finding its way to the back of her neck, barely brushing the skin. She didn’t seem to mind, reacting to his commanding kiss within moments of its start. Castiel was a soft lover, taking his time with every touch. Every move was thought through. 

 

His eyes stayed closed as he ran his right hand down Lamia’s left arm. She leant into Castiel, almost too fluid in the movements Sam would kill her for if he saw what was happening. Cas had her, shifting his weight so she fell onto her back. The bed sighed under their collective weight, cushioning Lamia. Her eyes stayed trained on Castiel after the kiss had been broken. He looked strong and dependable. Love was the cloud in his eyes, not for one moment only lust. The desire for her body was there, holding nothing to the adoration. Warm hands slid beneath her light nightgown, pulling the fabric away from her curves. Help was given in the form of lifted hips and arms, which left them forehead to forehead. Their unhurried breathes mingling in the small space between them. Lamia was shaking with need like she never had before, then, she’d never had an angel take control of her before. 

 

Castiel’s pouted lips dragged tender kisses down Lamia’s neck, careful to give enough attention to each and every spot. Her breast was grasped softly in his large hand, the other holding him up. The angel ignored the desire to kiss and bite at them, only licking a stripe up the cavern between them. Lamia’s breath caught in her throat, aroused by Castiel’s softness and will to not only feel but taste her skin.

 

Gripping her thigh the angel pulled Lamia’s legs open, pressing his lips to just above the sweet spot. Lamia gasped when a pulse went through her, a blue, shining energy that had her walls clenching. Castiel hummed, snapping the pair of boxers he’d donned to sleep in away. A sharp spiral of pleasure came from where Lamia had decided to grip at Castiel’s back, her fingers tucking between feathers in the most sensitive area of Cas’ wings. He shuttered, releasing a airy moan, “Lamia, that feels good, ple-”his voice was desperately strained, “-ase keep doing that.” 

 

The demon continued, rubbing the tips of her fingers through the fluffy baby feathers. Castiel rested his head against her chest, making himself vulnerable and at the mercy of her touch. It was the greatest act of trust Castiel could give her, a deed of love to allow her to make him tremble, to touch his wings. 

 

Eventually he needed her more than he could handle, her skin on his was driving him back into insanity. Lips connected feverishly, passionate and dangerously close to sinfully. Castiel took her in that instant, causing her to break the kiss with a gasp. Thumbs pressed the pliable skin of her thighs, his shoulder blades drawn together. Faint breaths brushed over her face, after the initial pleasure faded some she laughed softly, “Damn, I didn't think you could get me this hot sugar.”

 

Castiel smiled, shifting a few strands of hair from her face. He rolled his hips, running his hands up to the top of her hips and pulling her down to meet it. Her hair spread wildly above her head, another groan escaping her. Angels really did pick amazing vessels, but especially Castiel, he'd picked perfection. 

 

The slow pace Cas took was not disappointing, the slow drag of his thrusts kept the pleasure there longer. Each moment was sweet, smiles passing between the two easily. Some level of soft love ran through both of them as they shared in the passion. Evidently, Castiel made the request to go harder, faster. 

 

“Yes, fuck Cas, go as hard as you want.” Lamia whines, her legs tightening around his waist as he picks up the pace. In the few time’s she’d done anything like this she had never been this close to the edge. Castiel had her gripping the brink of orgasm soon after he sped up. He drove her crazy with how soft his lips kissed her skin, the way his teeth marked her collarbone as his. Cas shuddered as he got to the verge of his own release. His lips stilled just beneath her ear, parted just slightly, as he came. His voice grew deep as he finished, “Lamia,” he near pleaded, a shallow breath accompanying the name. 

 

Lamia stiffened, the shock waves of Castiel’s blue grace spreading up through her. She came with a cry, tears brimming her eyes. Her hands gripped the feathers of Castiel’s wings prompting a gasp from him, “Castiel!”

 

Castiel pulled away from her with a kiss to her lips, “That was,” he chuckled, “amazing. You’re incredible Lamia.”

 

“Coming from you? You’re some magic Castiel dear God.”

 

Cas scrunched up his nose at the mention of his father, to which Lamia pressed her palm against his face and pushed him off of her playfully, “Don’t give me that look angel, it’s a figure of expression.”

 

“Is that so sweetheart?”

 

“Yes it is angel.”

 

The demons hair was tucked under her cheek as she looked at the angel who was now propped up on his shoulder. His eyes held nothing but love, a soft look of completion in that moment. Hair stood at every angle, which he had learned to tame in the past few years but was now apparent as the most attractive thing about his aftersex glow. He pulled Lamia against him, her pale skin pressed to his once again, lulling them both into the wake of slumber. 


	4. Wanderlust

Sam had this feeling in the pit of his gut over the four days that he was gone that something was happening in the castle. His desire to get back heightened with each moment he had to speak to   Eve and his stationed crossroads demons. 

“Sire?” faintly passed through the veil of Sam’s thoughts, “Sire?”

Eve stood at the opposing end of the table, arms crossed over her chest, “Boy King!”

Jolting back into focus Sam frowned, “What Eve?”

“Pay attention.”

The young woman’s white nightgown clung to her in strips, centuries old blood stains dried in the fabric. Her brown hair tucked behind each ear, she looked just like a normal teenage girl. Not some gruesome mother of monsters, creating havoc with her own two hands.

Sam lent forward in his chair, “I go back tonight.”

Eve turned, her brows furrowed deeply, “Says who? You don’t leave until I say you can, boy king.”

Disregarding her statement Sam rises from his chair, knocking it back. The dingy cave-like scenery moving past him as he takes a few long strides forwards. A force like a tidal wave slams him against a wall, “Well now, it would seem we have some listening issues to work out Samuel.”

“Fuck you,” he lodges his arms between himself and the wall, trying to shove himself away from it. 

Eve sucks her teeth, “Oh Samuel, being the Boy King doesn’t give you the rights to disrespect me.”

With more effort than Sam deemed necessary he pushed himself back from the wall, walking slowly towards Eve against all her force. His face had dropped into one of unkempt rage, making Eve take bewildered steps back, “Y-” she spoke, now fearing for her life, “you aren’t strong enough to do this. What’s happening?!” 

Eve curled down into a ball, screeching at a decibel that should have shattered Sam’s eardrums. Now freed from fighting against her mental powers he could move much more quickly towards her. His head twitched violently, eyes ablaze as he grabbed her by her wrist, yanking her in close. The woman’s eyes were filled with doe like terror as he sneered, eyes too close for her to focus on both, “You either let me go, or this will be the day you die.”

“Bite me, Winchester.” 

The boy king slammed her down, pulling a blade from a sheath tucked through his belt loops. He drew the blade down, trying to drive it into one of her eye sockets. Eve grabbed and turned the blade, inching it back towards Sam’s chest. He fought against it, knocking the blade away as he grabbed another, this one dipped in phoenix ash. Carrying several was something he’d done since before his turning, and this was why. Eve didn’t see the second blade coming until it was far too late, and the blade was being rammed into her at different intervals. Her blackened blood spewed from the holes Sam created in her, and he didn’t stop until her face was a mangled mess. When he’d finished the killing he stood again, leaving the destroyed body in his wake. He rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead, leaving a streak of black against his skin. The demon who had been standing in the corner was terrified, “You, demon, clean her up will you?”

The demon nodded shakily, rushing to get supplies for such a large job. Sam looked back on his work, “I go home, tonight.”

The halls of Sam’s palace went silent as he walked through them, doused in fresh blood with a look of contempt in his eyes. Demons on the main floor scattered to get out of his way, each step coming down with a billowing thud. The braids that he’d requested be put in his hair made him look even more like a warrior general, but it was the pelt thrown over his shoulders that did it. The Boy King, warrior of Earth, Hell and Purgatory, soon Heaven too. 

The door to Lamia’s room was wide open, it’s soft pink interior as innocent as her face. Her hand paused in the air above the chess board, staring expectedly out at Sam’s face, “Yes Sire, can we help you with something?”

A window was open beside them, the white lace curtains Lamia had insisted on hand stitching flowing in the breeze wafting through. Castiel was focused on the board when Sam walked in, shoulders hunched in the way they always did when he was thinking. Lamia’s comment made him turn with happiness in his eyes, “Sam!”

Sam’s horns retracted just a little bit more as Castiel rushed over to hug him. A grunt of surprise left him as the two collide, he smiled dumbly, holding Castiel tightly against him, “Hey Cas, I missed you too.” 

Castiel almost didn’t notice the black stains on Sam’s white suit, but as he opened his eyes to let Sam go hem saw them, “Oh, what happened?”

“Eve got out of hand.” The taller man muttered, it wasn’t exactly a lie, it just wasn’t the whole truth. 

The two went up to the third floor, where Sam kept his private-most quarters. A large television sat on a stand, across from that was a large couch. Sam kept his hand on Castiel’s arm, feeling like maybe if he kept doing so he could stop chasing a thirst he could never quite quench. There was still a hole in his chest, a most human desire to be accepted, be holy enough in the eyes of an angel. 

After the boys had settled and an old western (one of Dean’s favourites Cas noticed) was playing, splashing varying degrees of light over the two men Sam began the lace his fingers through Castiel’s. It was the same feeling as the last time he did it, like he was terrified. Like the words “ _ it’s okay Dean, I got him.”  _ were about the be his last. The same dismay that Cas had felt coming off him when he threw himself into the cage was present now. The Boy Kings horns were all but gone, the wings growing smaller with each passing day. Castiel held Sam’s hand softly, “Heaven forgives you Same, I forgive you.”

Sam stares deeply at Cas, his drawn brows defining the words his heart felt but that his mouth did not know how to speak. 

_ Thank you. _


	5. Crucifixion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done! Epilogue is next!

If the trees could speak they would tell you how much Sam loved Cas before he fell. There was never a moment he wouldn’t want to touch Cas, just to feel the curves of his vessel. It was like being in love with a bomb, some days Castiel would curl up on a couch and lean against Sam, other days he exploded in fits of rage. At first Sam couldn’t stand it, in time he grew a love for Castiel’s inherently angelic quality. 

The night sky had begun to close in on them, stars twinkling above. They took up the bed of Castiel’s old truck, one Dean had insisted on getting rid of as the angels mental health deteriorated. Blankets were strewn over them, a soft blue light cast over Sam’s face. He looked innocent, human, if only for that short time in the back of the pickup. Castiel was wearing his old trench coat, saddened by the emptiness of Bobby’s old junkyard, but struck by the love he felt for Sam. 

Shivers ran up Castiel’s body, his teeth chattered as he rubbed his arms to warm up. He used to have enough muscle in his body to keep himself warm, now he was regretting letting himself get so bad that he refused to eat despite his low grace levels. Sanity may have restored itself for him, but the blue fire in his bones was still weak and dull. Sam noticed the way Castiel was curling in on himself and pulled him close. The contrast of his red, hot hellfire to Castiel’s shuddering blue grace was absolute. In this, they were made for one another. 

The angel leaned into Sam’s touch, basking in the heat. The trees rustled all about them, all whispering of how much they looked the same as before the fall. Before all the hurt. Castiel had insisted that they take this trip, away from responsibility, just the same freedom they’d felt on their first date. This was a time when Castiel was calm, where he became the needy one instead of the man in charge. 

Sam began to play with Castiel’s hair, the cool air flowing endlessly around their warmth. Crickets sang sultry tunes around them, giving noise to their silent pleas for one another. 

“Cas.”

Castiel hummed, having closed his eyes and tucked himself deeply into Sams side, “Yes Sam?”

Sam shifted, looking down at the angel with now opened bright blue eyes, “I love you, more than anything.”

Castiel ran his thumb over Sam’s brow to smooth out the furrow, watching as the mans face fell into desire, “I love you too Sam.”

Entwining with one another, the two began to share a slow and deliberate kiss. Castiel could feel the weight of Sam’s hip pressing against his own. His fingers curled in the long brown locks Sam still sported, pulling the man closer. Sam held Castiel’s face in his palm, trying to convey his pent up emotions clearly. Of everything he’d done, from tangoing with the devil to telling off Dirk the Jerk Sam could not get his emotions out. 

Soon he became tired and sedated, pleased to have been so intimate with Cas in what felt like forever. Curled against the night together, they both fell into a slumber. Waiting for the sun to dawn on them again.

 

The sun came too soon to draw them from their rest. Castiel could feel Sam pulling away into the early morning sun, he grunted disappointedly, fingers clinging to the fabric of Sam's flannel until they could no longer. They had to go back to the palace today, or the demons would run amok as demons did.

Castiel sat up idly, not wanting to move from the piles of pillows and blankets around him. Sam had him standing though, they needed to hurry back, though when they arrived the palace eas calm. Not only that, but clean, immaculate. 

“I have some business to finish Castiel, please, entertain yourself.” 

 

With that any sliver of what happened the night before was gone. Trudging up the stairs Castiel found Lamia, who was ecstatic to see him.

 

The office was all but covered in paper, contracts and reports galore. Against one wall stood a demon clad all in black leather and jeans. He had one leg bent with his foot against the wall, trying to come off as aloof to the words he was about to speak. 

 

Sam groaned, having tried to ignore hells most persistent demon, “What is it that you have to say Ramiel?”

 

Ramiel sucked his teeth, clearing dirt from under his nails as he spoke four catastrophic words, “Castiel slept with Lamia.”

 

The Earth quaked with Sam's animosity, his fingernails bit into the wooden desk he sat at. Grabbing a metal statuette, with only resentment to guide him, Sam threw it at Ramiels head, “Get out of my office.”

 

The drop in Sam's tone from elated to enraged didn't phase the demon, “Should I have everyone meet in the foyer sire?”

 

“Yes.”

.

The foyer was crowded with people all jostling one another to get the best view of the action. Castiel, Lamia and Dagon were all hustled in, demons poking and prodding at them to move quickly. 

 

Castiel walked towards Sam, who had an angel blade clutched firmly in his hand. When Cas got close he began to feel wary, ignoring it as he wanted to trust Sam, always. 

 

Sam waited until the angel was close enough to smell, the air bringing his musk to Sam as a final imploration. His fingers grabbed at Castiel's hair, forcing him down to his knees. Cas gripped at the hand, tears of pain streaming down his sullen cheeks. 

 

He gripped at Sam's dress pants, looking up into his eyes to try and find the light and joy, “Sam!”

 

Nothing, there was nothing but hate in the boy king. Castiel began to shake, his voice weakening as he continued to stare. Sam, wanting to see the light drain from Castiel’s eyes would have forced him to watch if he wasn't already doing so. Castiel whimpered, “Sam?”

 

“Sam please-” Cas cried out, the most human of tears staining his cheeks, “You don't have to do this.”

 

The angels lip quivered, “I can still save you Sam.”

  
Sams horns came back fully, the tips pointing further and sharper out than before. It was in this that Cas realized the light was gone, Sam was gone. He closed his eyes as an angel blade pricked the underside of his chin, "You were never going to save me Castiel."   
The blade carved its way into Castiel's skull, his eyes opening wide and burning lowly with the last of his grace. Sam let his body slump to the floor.   
  
Lamia yelled out in a rush of agony, her eyes burning with tears as Dagon held her back, "Cas! Cas! No! Castiel!"   
  
She fought Dagon’s hold with everything she had, wanting nothing more than to kill Sam for this. Any semblance of the hopeful girl she'd been had gone, leaving only the time swept, broken demon.,   
  
The tight grip Dagon had been keeping subsided as Sam walked away. Lamia was so traumatized that black spots appeared in her vision, causing her to stumble to her knees when Dagon released her.   
  
Lamia crawled over, heart dropped between her knees and jostled with each shuffle. She covered Castiel's body with her own, each sob a deep scar slicing into her flesh. Her hands trembled as she closed Castiel's blue, blue eyes, "I loved him you bastard!"

  
The scream ricocheted off of Sam's back, jaw clenched solemn anger, knowing that he would never be able to swallow the magnitude of what he just did. Killing someone he loved more than he could ever show. His fist unfurled, "We don't love angels here."


	6. Epilogue: Apple Pies and Crossroads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's DOOOOONNNEEEEEE

Lamia didn’t cope with Castiel’s death very well, keeping his stone cold vessel tucked on her bedrooms window seat. She wouldn’t answer to anyone, the pain was too great. It spread like cancer, tingling in the marrow of her bones all the way to the skin. Resentment coursed through her like blood.

Sam had tried to apologize, knocking softly at the door, “Lamia, I’m sorry. I didn’t`”

A growl could be heard from her as she sat, eyes tearing holes into him, “Get the fuck out you monster.”

The tone alone made Sam back into the hall. He’d tried again a few times after that, to no avail. Black cloaks became the extent of Lamia’s fashion choices, and the darkest, laciest dress she could find. Most of the time she stayed tucked beneath the white duvet on her bed, agonizing weeping coming from the room well into the night. 

Many weeks later Lamia discovered that she was pregnant with a child that would be the rebirthed antichrist. So powerful was this child, with both demon and angel blood seeping all through it’s creation. She mulled over keeping it for days, battling between the righteous path and the selfish path. In passing she knew what she truly had to do, and though she feared being killed, it was the only way to do this right. The cloak she chose to wear was floor length, covering her entire figure. Her face was obscured by the wide hood that she threw over her head. One look at the body sitting on her window seat made her continue. Each step was determined, as though they would be her last. A hand rested over the small baby bump stretching out the midsection of her dress, protecting the child she chose to bare. With her knowledge of the palace she navagated out nearly unnoticed, Dagon the only exception. As she stepped up to the Earth-Hell portal in the furthest reach of the castle she waved to him. Dagon watched silently, he would say nothing. He loved his sister too much.

 

The world beyond hell was cold, biting at Lamia’s dark skin. Her golden eyes settled on the dirt path before her. It was long and winding, leading towards what she was looking for. The crossroad demon she needed was a mile up the way. The demon headed in the direction of the abandoned tavern, bare feet passing over each pebble and rock with ease. As she approached the street lights began to dim into nothing, gone with the abandonment. 

“Sura, show yourself.” Lamia commanded, pulling her hood down. Her coiled hair was tied into a ponytail, revealing fully her features. Her lips formed into a slight disappointed frown, “Sura!”

A demon with skin that practically glowed white came into existence, “Lamia!”

Sighing, Lamia accepted Sura’s hug, “I’m not here for a friendly chat, I need your help.”

“Why, what do you need Lamia? Anything, I still owe you for sparing my sisters life all those years ago,” Sura blabbed aimlessly.

“I need you to help me wake an angel from the dead,” Lamia’s face showed no sign of humour, yet Sura laughed as though she’d made a joke.

After cooling her laughter and fanning her face to cool it Sura paused, “You surely aren’t serious.”

Lamia held her ground, raising a brow in contempt, “Yes I’m serious Sura.”

The blonde demon sucked in a breath, “I don’t know if I can help with that.”

Opening her mouth to speak Lamia was cut off, “I’ll talk to my reapers and see what we can do.”

The stars seemed to wink at them, a fresh hope settling in Lamia’s heart. She looked up to the heavens, “Bless you, Mother Mary.”


End file.
